


Red Ribbons

by kaiyak



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Apocalypse, Beautiful, Blood, Dystopia, Fantasy, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Human/Vampire Relationship, Love, Love at First Sight, M/M, Metaphors, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Modern Era, Modern Royalty, Mystery, Poetic, Politics, Polyamory, Romance, Romantic Soulmates, Social Hierarchy, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Supernatural Elements, Swearing, Torture, Tragedy, Vampires, Violence, a bunch of many things really, basically idk how to tag, but yeah jisung almost dies in the prologue but NO MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, imma add more tags later, lots of references, magical au, powers, soft, this is just a jisung/everyone vampire au where skz take care of jisung and p r o t t e c c
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:27:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22400101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaiyak/pseuds/kaiyak
Summary: In a world where vampires roam the cities' streets in hopes of capturing humans and transforming them into their own personal blood reservoirs, Han Jisung is constantly on the run, escaping reality and trying to find a place he could possibly call home. Never would he have expected seven children of the night to welcome him in their destructive and dangerously intriguing world with open arms.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Han Jisung | Han, Everyone/Everyone, Han Jisung | Han & Everyone, Han Jisung | Han/Everyone, Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin, Han Jisung | Han/Kim Seungmin, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Felix, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Han Jisung | Han/Seo Changbin, Han Jisung | Han/Yang Jeongin | I.N
Comments: 33
Kudos: 237





	1. 0. Like A Night That Lost The Moon

**Author's Note:**

> hi! (WARNING: THIS FIC IS REALLY POETIC ; and these notes keep getting longer AND LONGER SOMEONE STOP ME PLEASE)  
> am i here with an another au? yes, yes i am.  
> is it surprising? HA. no, no it's not. AT ALL.  
> no, i didn't forget about be my fire, be my dream. i didn't forget about scars and dices, either. heck, i still remember the plot i planned for bourgeons d'étoiles, and i cannot wait to continue this fic. BUT OMG INSPIRATION KICKED IN AND PUSHED ME TO WRITE ANOTHER FANFICTION SO HERE WE GO A-GAIN LADIES AND GENTS. (am i disappointed of myself? yeah, just a bit lol)  
> long story short, the holidays were terrible, but still fun. i dropped out of university because the program i was in just.. wasn't for me. i'm planning on going back to school in september in another university and in another program and in the meantime, i'll just go back to work :3 besides the stress concerning my future and my personal insecurities, the holidays were pretty great ngl. hell, i'm going to see skz in four days at their nyc concert. like??????? I'M SO EXCITED AND CANNOT WAIT BUT I HAVE TO DO A LOT OF THINGS BEFORE LEAVING WHICH IS WHY I'M STILL ANXIOUS LOL BUT WHATS NEW  
> n-e-ways. here's how this story was created: i joined a group chat full of people attending the nyc show and the day skz were live on twitter, we started talking about fanfics and ideas and whatnot. and then i mentionned jisung/everyone. and then we included the vampire concept from THEIR FANTASTIC PERFORMANCE YOU KNOW WHICH ONE and then BOOM the au was created.  
> SO. LONG STORY SHORT, THIS FIC IS JUST ABOUT HUMAN!JISUNG BEING TAKEN CARE OF BY VAMPIRES!SKZ AND SKZ ARE VAMPIRES BUT THEY WISH HUMANS AND VAMPIRES COULD BE EQUAL. period. (and they will use their power(s??) to start a revolution, but that's for LATER)  
> as you've probably noticed, these notes are hella long and i feel like no one reads them so i'll try to go straight to the point.  
> basically, the world in which this fic starts is the same as the one in which we live in right now. but! imagine if vampires were coming out of the shadows and were trying to take over the biggest cities of the planet? therefore, seoul is now controlled entirely by vampires. i will try not to go too much in detail, but there is social hierarchy, both for humans and vampires alike. for example, humans are classified depending on their bloodtype, whereas vampires are classified depending on their social status. this vampire au will be somewhat different in many other ways as well, but i'll let you discover that ;)  
> aight, that's it for today! it's 3 am and i have to go sleep (i'm not making any sense at this point)  
> hopefully you'll enjoy reading! please tell me what you think in the comments!  
> thank you for reading and see you next time! (i seriously dunno when i'll update this AHHHHHHHHHH and now TIME TO DANCE WITH NACHIM IN NYC WOOOOOOHOOOOO)  
> p.s: this is NOT betaed (like usual lol BUT I'LL TRY TO CORRECT EVERYTHING ON MY WAY TO NYC OKAY GOODNIGHT LOL)  
> EDIT 01/31 = THE PROLOGUE IS NOW BETAED (WHAT THE HELL THERE WAS AN UNFINISHED SENTENCE LMAO) + I HAVE POST-CONCERT DEPRESSION AND I MISS SKZ I WANNA CRY THIS SHOW WAS AMAZING OKAY BYE HUHUHUHUHUH

For the first time in days, the sun was finally showing its visage, its rays tentatively appeasing the tense, frigid atmosphere which reigned on the entire country since the Change. Although blinding, its power failed to melt the panoply of snowflakes which was descending from the dome, the cold still present, biting and unforgiving.

Jisung coughed, a guttural moan of raw pain escaping his lips and shattering the previous silence, a shiver running down his spine, goosebumps awakening on his arms. Even his tears had turned to ice, a blanket of snow on his onyx-coloured hair, his ears flushed. He sniffed, the metallic smell of blood making him gag and reminding him of his wound, his mind clouded with a mixture of disgust, anger and unadulterated horror, his fingers madly trembling against his torso, droplets of scarlet tainting his dirty nails.

He shook his head, urgently evaporating his thoughts, the cold piercing through his organism, reaching his bones and making him shudder. He spat, a painting of saliva, snot and crimson decorating the pristine white canvas, a fit of wet coughs tumbling down from his mouth. He tried getting up, his legs almost giving out, and pressed his bloodied palms to the rust-hued brick wall, his entire body endlessly convulsing. A pang of dolor hit his stomach, and he doubled over, choking on vital liquid yet again, panic flowing through his veins.

_Yagsok. I’m almost there. I have to get to Yagsok, I have to reach—_

A snarl ripped him away from his torment, and he snapped his head upward, frightened, his eyes impossibly wide, his heart frigid in its cage of despair. He tightened his grip on his gun and, limbs quivering and buckling under the weight of the weapons he sported on his back, he made his way out of the abandoned alleyway and limped towards the dazzling sphere of fire, the snow printing his footsteps, a few more beads of the sacred treasure tainting it, marking his trail. 

Between a multitude of tall, decrepit buildings and grey clouds, the prey opened its broken wings, tentatively trying to get transported by the wind to its desired destination, a cry of help trapped in its throat.

Jisung bit his lower lip, anxious, iron on the tip of his tongue. He chanced looking back, flames of pain licking at his left ankle, poisoned blood wrapping itself around his fragmented ribs, and he hiccupped with fear, squinting through the blizzard, two crimson dots glaring at him.

Eerily greeting him, inviting him, closer and closer to Hell’s imposing doors, Jisung’s heartbeat picking up and setting off warning alarms, sirens echoing in his mind, red dripping from the stellar dome and tainting his world in its pigmented, yelling hues. 

The human panted, his breaths forming puffs of air and masking him, then inhaled, a mute shout of agony imprisoned by his teeth. Without notifying the predator, he turned around in a single movement, and he ran as best as he could, welling up at every step, all of his members aching, the fire spreading and invading each and every one of his cells. Provoked, the beast responded positively to his lure and dashed after him, growling like an animal, its unnaturally sharpened fangs shaping a horrendous smirk.

Jisung gulped, then coughed, metal on his taste buds.

 _It’s a newborn, Jisung, it cannot run as fast as the older, more powerful ones, you know that, you’ve studied it, remember,_ he internally reiterated to himself like a mantra, the words gradually losing their meaning, being devoured by dread.

Hypothermia and hyperventilation were creeping on him, softly calling out to him like the tantalizing song of a siren, the pistol heavy in between his shaking fingers, the swords crushing his spinal cord, his ankle and his upper body declaring defeat.

He kept moving with the tiny amounts of ardour and power he possessed, the freezing breeze which was nipping at his cheeks retelling him that his organ was still furiously pumping precious, adored, sought after O- blood, that his muscles were still screaming because of the incoming conflagration.

That he still was what his enemy was no more.

Alive.

_But maybe not for long. If only I can win this race just like I won all the others—_

For half a second, Jisung thought about giving up, the idea pulling him towards the endless hole, towards the darkness, towards the end, the journey completed, the book finished, the case closed.

The tale concluded.

 _So close_ , _yet so far_ , _at the same time_.

But then, his parents’ smiling faces appeared behind his retinas, the embrace of his older brother tattooed on his arms, flashes and sparkles of happiness, joy and nostalgia floating in his head, his heart accelerating its repetitive cycle at the warmth and softness which radiated from the memories.

The vampire grunted, starved, its hands outstretched in his direction, its claws angrily, badly clasping on oxygen molecules, missing by a few centimeters its object of intrigue’s jacket, the blades clinking noisily. Jisung doubled his efforts, newfound confidence and motivation propelling him forward, faith and courage illuminating his field of view, guiding him.

_There’s still hope. Even with the many Sang camps, the slavery bonds and the reduction of social rights, there’s still hope. The sun still shines, even if darkness has engulfed us all._

He ran, faster than he had ever done before, the phoenix trapped in his crown of bones finally deploying its wings, each one of its fiery feathers exploding in thousands of firebrands, praying to the galaxies that _everything would go according to plan_.

Busy convincing himself, wishful stars and beams in his orbs, he choked on blood yet again, losing speed, the flames in his flanks infecting the entirety of his systems, the bone in his ankle breaking in two, his muscles failing at protecting the fracture. Jisung hollered in the middle of the glacial tempest, a few nearby crows taking off at the commotion, their croaks of terror accompanying his suffering, glimmering tears rolling down his bony cheeks, a pool of twinkling drops hiding the dark creases which were wallpapered under his eyes.

Without warning, all his forces flooding out of his arteries and dripping from the tips of his fingers, he unceremoniously collapsed to the ground, white tainting his vision, pain replacing hemoglobin. He huffed and wailed, the treasured carmine-colored vital liquid still sliding down his face, exhaustion and misery invading his being. He gripped his revolver tighter, seemingly calmly apprehending what destiny had reserved for him, although the distress alarms were ringing louder than ever, his rapiers heavily crushing his back.

Without a single trace of mercy, the creature triumphally announced its victory in a shiver-inducing roar, falling on top of Jisung and causing the human to sink deeper in the ocean of snowflakes, the humid cold puncturing his extremities, violent red on delicate white, confirming that the war was _finally_ over, and that the immortal being could presently collect its prize, its trophy of collection.

It slowly, progressively sucked in a breath near Jisung’s ear, sniffing at his nape, creepily nuzzling at his jugular, its incisors barely touching Jisung’s blued skin. Jisung yelped, trashing around, wrestling against _it_ like a madman, to no avail. Impatient and annoyed, the other stabbed the area in between his shoulder blades with the help of his sharpened nails, blood oozing out from the newly formed cuts.

The predator licked its lips with anticipation, its eyes bulged out, its facial features deformed. The prey squealed, weak, wretched, conquered.

_S-Someone, someone, help—_

His enemy bit the protruding vein on his neck, its teeth safely settled under his flesh, and started aspiring Jisung’s gem, gulping on its dessert at an impossibly fast pace.

Jisung whined, his nose scrunched up, thorns poisoning the roses which floated in his bloodstream. He grasped some snow with his numb, dead fingers and he wheezed, hysteria taking control over his actions and decisions. His instincts were indignantly _shrieking_ at him, telling him to _submit, to accept fate_ , _to let be_.

_Either gobble up, or be gobbled up._

_I—I chose the wrong option_.

The feeling of getting his energy and strength torn away from him made him desperately, pointlessly pray to whoever who could hear his silent pleas, his chin slightly raised towards the sky, tiny drops of snow landing on his fluttering eyelashes.

 _Please_ , he begged fervently, his teeth chattering, the phoenix’s blazes dimming, being savagely, tirelessly drunk by the other, more brilliant, more powerful fire, the one which was spreading its venom at an accelerating rate.

And then, out of nowhere, the sun shone brighter, Jisung’s heart frantically thumping against the fire, the vampire complaining at the discreet modification and extracting his essence with more vigour. A symbol. A sign, an omen.

A glitch?

Through his tears, a beacon of light illuminated his environs, the tornadoes of snow fading away, the world clearer, as if water had washed everything away, serenity submerging him, even his dolor now asleep, forgotten.

There. Right in front, on the right, standing tall, proudly reaching the far, far away constellations. Revealing its hundreds of broken windows and its cracked brick walls.

One of the many Refuges, as the survivors had nicknamed them. The first one.

The Key.

The infamous building, well-known to humans, which secretly housed those who were on the run, just like him, struggling to find a permanent place, away from the buzzling noises of the metropolises, away from society, away from danger, away from the night. 

Jisung gasped. The thorns were pinching a bit more strongly than before, the _wrong_ , _bad_ fire spreading around his drained limbs, but—

_The Refuges, the Key, I—I made it, I made it, I’ve reached Yagsok—I’ve reached the Heaven!_

Impulsively, as the vampire was still swallowing his life down its oesophagus, its claws deep in his back muscles, too focused on its way towards absolute bliss to care about anything else besides its target’s diamonds and jewels, Jisung accumulated and regrouped his last ounces of potency, mentally counting down a blurry set of numbers, his eyelids resting against his solidified tears.

Briefly ignoring the pain in his left leg, in his right side, in his head, in his organs, just for a minute, a few seconds, Jisung subtly, slowly, yet surely lifted his right leg, cringing when his opponent bit down harder on his nape, its canines adding gasoline to the fire, the oxygen in his lungs vanishing quicker.

He shakily breathed in, his foot immobile, mid-air, his wrists trembling under his weight, the swords cutting through his blood-stained, flannel, plaid-patterned jacket.

Then, he pushed his leg backwards, the sole of his worn-out combat boot colliding with his obstacle’s abdomen, the impact separating the two individuals and sending the vampire off his back, right into the pile of snow, blood trickling down Jisung’s collarbones, splattered on his clothes and on the snow which were imprisoning the two of them. He scowled, disgusted, and, anxiety being relieved from its past slumber and thriving in his poor heart, he switched position, successfully managing to get on his back without hurting himself furthermore, now facing his attacker for the first time since the chase had begun.

And he remained motionless for an instant, awestruck, his arm extended towards the vampire, the heavy weight of his firearm halting his next actions.

 _It’s definitely blood-frenzied_ , he reasoned to himself, petrified, hypnotized.

The both of them got lost into their own galaxies, mutely analysing each other, intrigued. Jisung tilted his head, not comprehending.

The vampire had abysses as eyes. Somber, emotionless, drowned by ink. Wild, untamed fever was whirling in its ponds of obscurity, its thin lips garnished with thick blood, _Jisung_ ’s blood, its canines so immense and honed they prohibited it from entirely shutting its mouth. No traces of puffs of air, no sign of quakes in reaction to the low temperature. Its eyes were encircled by a web of black veins, its dirty hair a mess on its scalp, its cheekbones hollowed, a thin layer of pink subtly dusting them, signifying the start of the process of digestion.

_It’s inevitable. It’s a waste. I guess this is what they call ‘peine perdue’… A lost cause._

Jisung heaved, bile surging up.

As if outraged and offended by his negative reaction, it hissed at him, its incisors shining with _his own_ blood, getting into an offensive stance, ready to jump on Jisung again, to efficaciously terminate him.

To consume Jisung’s light with its lurking shadows. 

Jisung didn’t waste time. He crawled backwards, his palms reddened and wet because of the intense cold, the particles of frozen water biting his digits and wrapping themselves around the handle of his artefact.

The vampire ran straight towards him, its arms flailing in every way, a crazily terrifying expression glued to its facial features, its elongated claws manicured by blood.

Jisung rapidly gulped, sighed, then drew air in and raised his gun. He quickly aimed at the other’s sternum, the firearm aligned with the creature’s heart.

Although it was missing, dormant, useless. The vampire’s heart was nothing more than a soulless void.

Jisung’s own was drumming against a forest of bones and muscles, _alive_ , anxiety coursing around it.

It ferally growled, its fingers practically reaching Jisung’s eyes and ripping them out of their sockets. In the span of milliseconds, Jisung grabbed its left arm, pulled it towards him, making the nameless newborn cluelessly and clumsily fall in his direction, the tip of his revolver against its blemished torso.

It emitted a panicked squeal, reality finally settling in its misty, foggy, non-functioning head.

Its puddles of nothingness widened funnily, and its lips quivered non-stop, murmurs stuck to its mouth.

“N-No, I—I got to, I _need_ to,” it whispered frightfully, “you… you are one-one of the P-Pearls—"

Jisung pulled the trigger and fired.

The world seemed to stop turning on its axis for a fraction of a second.

Then, the sound of the detonation reverberated like thunder around the area, a few more birds escaping the crime scene, startled by the noise, the previous fury now nothing more than past history, the phoenix exhaling its last breath.

The bullet plunged deep inside dead flesh before piercing right through it, its silver molecules pouring into the immortal one’s non-responding veins and arteries, a torrent of blood gushing out, drenching Jisung in a shower of untainted, untouched, cherry-red-coloured liquified rubies.

Some of them could have been from _him_.

The weight of his act crashed on his shoulders as the juddering form of his target collapsed on him, and Jisung threw the weakened supernatural creature away from him, disgusted of the carnage he had fashioned.

The vampire was convulsing on the ground, hugging itself as if to comfort and reassure itself that _the pain will go away, it’s okay, the pain—_

Jisung slowly stood up with immense difficulty, still shaken and attentive, every atom of his organism screeching at the pain and exhaustion the movements had incited. He wiped away some of the blood he had on his cupid’s bow, his attire completely tarnished, and panted, somewhat lightheaded, his legs almost giving out yet again. He clutched his right side and his skull, his features distorted by discomfort and agony.

 _T-The cracks, they’re finally responding to the summoning_ , he observed as he eyed the artwork he had just sculpted, his eyelids dangerously drooping, his heart flying. 

The silver bullet, still securely lodged in the vampire’s sternum, was blooming in a rotten garden, its core contaminating its victim, dozens of tiny cracks erupting on the being’s skin.

The sculpture was self-destructing, disintegrating, the scars reaching each other, the porcelain breaking in thousands of pieces.

“ _No_! You- You _fucking_ Pearl!” it aggressively uttered, trying to threaten him, grunts of pain and coughs accompanying its poor attempt.

Jisung shook his head from left to right as if to persuade himself, welling up, the waves stronger than usual. When he took the lighter from the right pocket of his torn jeans, the vampire screamed even louder, its eyes now poisoned by the parasite and displaying fractured glass beads.

The presently mortal child of the night cried blood, whereas the child of light cried guilt and insecurities.

Jisung set his pursuer on fire while trying not to think too much of it, dropping the lighter on the latter, the famished flames hugging their prey and wolfing it down, its cries soon turning into one of the incessant voices which tormented him daily, joining the many (too many) others and singing familiar harmonies and melodies together. 

The repugnant smell and awful spectacle were too much. He sobbed, his throat clogged and his tears metamorphosed into frozen rivers, doubt clawing at his heart, just like the vampire had almost done earlier.

 _Gobble up_.

Jisung backpedalled by jumping on one leg and swiftly turned around, his thoughts waltzing away with the rain of snowflakes.

He resumed his journey, terribly limping forward, no obstruction in view, following his initial path while the fire was still crackling, sirens loudly resonating in his brain, fatigue running through his veins.

He raised his head tiredly, then sadly smiled through his tears at the sight of concrete, making his shoulders drop, a sigh of relief fleeing his lips.

His sole hope, the first Refuge, the Key. Right here, just a few steps away.

He slowly but surely walked, heading towards the main entrance, powered by success and the inviting feeling of being safe, tucked away from the world, alone, his existence forgotten, imagined, fictious.

His hand on the railing, he went up the stairs made of cement, one by one, a trail of bloody footsteps following him and warning everyone of his presence. He shivered, then sniffed, gloomy and scared.

 _I’ll need to move to another Refuge as soon as I wake up_ , he told himself with a little pout, still emotional after the chaos. _Hopefully I can stay in Yagsok for at least a week_ …

He pushed the doorknob of the massive, imposing door towards the right, the well-known clicking sound confirming his entrance was accepted, and that the possibilities the Key possessed were unlocked to him.

The revolting odor of moldy carpets automatically attacked his nostrils, but he still proceeded, wobbling towards the first staircase he had seen, the walls closing on him at a hasty rate. The walls, which originally only exhibited a flower-designed wallpaper, greyed by the time and the decay, now also unveiled fresh prints of Jisung’s blood.

Exploration and details could wait for tomorrow. He had to _sleep_ , to just _rest_ and _forget_.

He made his way up to the first floor, taking a break every time he would lift and put pressure on his injured leg, his ribcage falling apart, almost getting punched by dolor itself and losing consciousness every few minutes.

He finally travelled through the maze of decomposition and reached his desired destination, barging through the door of the first room which had interpellated him, ignoring the pitiful decorations and the open-area rooms which greeted him, heading straight towards the first bedroom he could find, the only chant pasted on his mind being _bed_ , _bed_ , _bed_ —

He let go of his gun, which loudly fell onto the floor, his daggers following suit, drops of blood being the finishing touch.

Drained, energy-less, worn out, Jisung fell on the rigid, rock-like mattress, the lack of warmth making him tremble and cage his own body with his arms, seeking comfort and healing while rolling into a foetus position on his good side. The sun’s rays were filtering through the veils and curtains which adorned the windows, their calming light making Jisung breathe a bit more serenely.

Only now that he was safe and that he was confined in his own bubble did he realise how _starved_ and _thirsty_ he really was, the survival instincts kicking in and the paranoia gradually slipping through his fingers. His stomach growled, his throat parched, his head pounding, his heartbeat controlling his systems, his ribs and legs broken.

He felt heavy, as if he were chained to the bed, and couldn’t move a single finger, his back resting on the old, dusty, black covers. The dark dots made an appearance, and he tried following them, but they were swimming too fast. He got lost at sea.

He wondered if he would wake up from his sleep, or if it would be endless, and would drown his light. His precious light.

Then, the sounds of the wind disappeared, his ears rendered deaf. The only thing he could hear was this… this fascinating, breath-taking, goosebumps-inducing bird song, his heart incredibly pained by its soft, yet melodramatic melody, longing for something.

Or _someone_?

Then, delicately, silently, a slender, warm hand slipped into his right one. Another one, this one smaller and tinnier, clasped his right one, their fingers now intertwined.

Jisung scrunched up his nose, the phoenix awakening, panic settling in.

 _Who_?

He opened his eyes, ready to retort or to just defend himself, because _what if they’re vampires, I’m dead, that’s it, I won’t be able to make eomma or appa or hyung happy, and—_

But the ocean of darkness was ravaging, so strong and violent, it was pulling him towards unconsciousness. He could barely decipher anything in his field of view besides three shadows through the snowing black dots. One on his right side, near his flank, one on the other side, and one right in front of him, at the end of the bed.

And then—

Ice. Pure, cold, ice. Cold, yet radiating heat, and welcoming, bizarrely inviting. Jisung’s heart skipped a beat.

The vampire’s pupils were magnificent. They were periwinkle-hued, petals of lilac-coloured flowers blooming and flowing in the muscles of his irises.

Jisung shivered, and huffed, the pain making him lose control over his rationality.

The other two gripped his hands tighter, following their roles as messengers of hope, courage and something else.

Something… almost foreign, yet familiar at the same time?

_L-Love?_

A quiet, gentle, mellifluous voice then interrupted the bird song, and made Jisung exhale tiredly, consoled.

_Safe. Loved?_

“It’s okay, little one. We’re here, now. You’re not alone, anymore.”

 _We_ finally _found you_.

Jisung wanted to refuse Morpheus’ embrace, but, tempted and drowsy, he fell into his arms and got swallowed by darkness, warmth hugging him from behind, purple flowers blossoming in his heart.


	2. 1. These Burning Flames, These Crashing Waves, Wash Over Me Like A Hurricane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The warning sign, long forgotten. The alarms muted, the battle commenced, nameless cries being extracted from the being at fault’s throat, seas of blood awakening the famished spirits, chandeliers getting their fiery light stolen away."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Blood, Violent language  
> *Translations of French terms and sentences used in this chapter can be found in the notes at the end*
> 
> hi hihi (hides)  
> look, i don't even know where to start, but imma try to be brief, this time (for real lol)  
> i know. i know i went away for literally nine months, and i sincerely apologize. so many things happened.. i mean, 2020 is just a mess, honestly. right now, it's a bit better. but yeah, let's just say a lot happened, and i just did not have any motivation to write for many months... i even thought about deleting this story, and my whole ao3 account, actually, but i love my stories with all my heart, and cannot do that.. it would have destroyed me haha  
> so yeah! after dropping out of school in january, i worked full time during the pandemic, which was.. an interesting experience, to say the least hehe. not only did i have no time to work on my personal projects, but i got into a very sad situation which greatly affected me and made me constantly feel.. uncapable, doubtful, stressed and ashamed of myself. so yeah, it was hard, and i really thought about giving up many times. but! i absolutely adore what i do, and i am really passionate about my worlds, and so i decided to continue writing still, which is why it literally took me nine months to write this (and it's not that much, barely just 4k words. i'm sorry)  
> so! recap! in the prologue, we got to learn about jisung's situation, his fight with the blood-frenzied newborn, and his destination, yagsok. so here we are: he finally awakens!  
> i hope i'll be able to upload more frequently now that i am better, and that i went back to study full time.  
> i would like to sincerely thank everyone who has read this fic, and everyone who commented, left kudos, and subscribed and/or bookmarked. i am so grateful and thankful. i never expected this story to gain so much in so little time, and i'm forever grateful. it's really sweet and admirable. you all made me want to write more. so really, thank you. merci beaucoup. merci infiniment.  
> some people have pointed out that the grammar i use seems to be based on french grammar and syntactic rules, and you're right! my first language is french, but i love mixing both english and french together, and think it gives essence to the overall vibe of the fic.  
> on that note, i hope you enjoy today's chapter! thank you so so much for everything, and i hope you have a nice day/afternoon/evening/night! please tell me what you think in the comments if you feel like it!  
> chapter title from: middle of the night - elley duhé

A glass of wine met the floor, the fragile material cracking and shattering, its translucent shards taking off, crystals raining on the culprits, red taking part of the destruction and painting the world with unchained wrath. The ceramic tiles were tainted, bleeding, poisoned roots wrapping themselves around the audience, capturing innocent souls. The echo of footsteps followed the detonation, heels clacking, erratic pants reverberating off the walls, scars resurfacing.

A beautiful, elegant feather waltzed through the air, twirling on itself, cascading towards the scene of the carnage, joining the scarred quartzes, liberated from its previous cage.

“ _Non_ ,” a strangled voice mumbled, melodious, yet troubled, refusal and surprise choking the perpetrator of the crime, delivered. “ _N-Neige_ —”

 _Neige_. _Neige_?

Jisung squirmed, his fingers itching, a pillow-like blanket of warmth around him, frowning, apprehensive, on the look-out.

Amethyst-coloured flames sparked up, flashes of ice-cold mauve and droplets of purple drawing him in, rendering him breathless, frail, even.

Jisung was enthralled, but mortified, the scent of pure fury, busy contaminating the air, and the sight of devastation overdosing his senses. The hurricane of chaos was so _tempting_ , but the roots were holding him back, imprisoning his limbs, rendering him unable to even absorb oxygen comfortably.

He wheezed, the claws at his neck sinking deep in his flesh, the nails _digging_ , searching for _more_ , red _bubbling up_ —

 _What the hell is going on_?

“ _Ne le touchez pas_!”

The warning sign, long forgotten. The alarms muted, the battle commenced, nameless cries being extracted from the being at fault’s throat, seas of blood awakening the famished spirits, chandeliers getting their fiery light stolen away.

The villain, pierced, penalised, fell, won against, his want of triumph evaporated.

Gone.

The cascades of lilac were still drowning all spectators, Jisung included.

“ _Vous verrez—Vous verrez bien, ha! Des Réservoirs, épargnés? Vous avez tort!_ ” the assassin spat, the carmine planets in his eyes autodestructing themselves, extinguished, the rubies furnishing his crown fissuring, “ _Vous le paierez, bande de sales Puretés_!” he wailed, rivers of vital liquid streaming down his face.

Dozens of ravens invaded the battlefield and echoed his words, screeching impossibly loudly, the atrocious sounds possessing poor, innocent souls, breaking skulls open.

Jisung was shaking uncontrollably, his heart vibrating to the rhythms of the blood song.

Crevices, then a sky of combustion, and then nothing.

Except waves made of black, crimson-splattered feathers.

And vivid, mesmerizing _purple_ , inked on his eyes, flowing through his veins, warm lilac bulbs healing his system, illuminating his path.

Swirling madness. Jisung felt motion-sick, and hastily covered his mouth, persuaded the demon’s howls would detach themselves from his vocal cords and descend Hell, tumbling down from in between his chapped, dry lips.

Then, _azure_. Blue, clear cobalt-hued diamonds, innocent, freezing, just like intricate, delicate snowflakes.

 ** _Neige_**.

Jisung whined, uncomfortable, the need making his everything _ache_. He gritted his teeth, waves of darkness hugging his shoulders, heavy.

Something was caressing his cheek, the touch as soft as the wind, the petals swaying like autumn leaves at night. Flaps of fluffy, light wings resounded. He madly shuddered, fevered, scarlet snaking around his nape and suffocating him, lavender tainting his hands, sapphires crowning the top of his unkept mane, braided into his messy, obsidian strands.

He awoke with a start, his lungs furnished with hurtful thorns, tears blossoming on his pale cheeks, growing into gems. He huffed, coughing, ravage burning the entire forest, blazing flames gobbling him up, his heart keeling over, a shaky sob tumbling down from in between his quivering half-moons. He sniffled, raggedly inhaling at a frightening pace, his nape stuck to what felt like a pillow, his organism howling with agony, pain and sadness, his head pounding, the earthquake present in his every cell destroying everything on its passage.

He took a wavy breath in, feeling the newfound oxygen particles icing their way down his parched, blocked throat, and he grumbled faintly, his vocal cords immobile, stuck, rendered useless. He hiccupped, paranoid, wiped out, his bangs hiding his sight, like fields of wheat floating, following the spring breeze’s rhythms. He gulped his anxiety down, swallowing it whole, and his hands began their exploration process, blindly sensing what was under their touch, soft textiles made of silk now trapped in between his slender fingers, a scarcely perceptible aroma of blooming cherry blossoms wafting to his nostrils. He stretched his neck with slight discomfort, only now noticing the nest of long, graceful feathers which sat atop his covered torso, their soft strings tickling his senses and his nerves, even if they were on the warm blankets which trapped his stilled, stiff body. One of them got transported by a sudden gust of wind, and, shaken to the core at the minuscule, insignificant happening, Jisung cried out, sinuous lightning bolts of dolour making his skin tickle. Only now was he noticing his surroundings and the eerie, haunted aura that emanated from the four walls that held him captive.

 _This… This certainly is_ not _the Key_.

Memories rushed to his brain without his approval, just like famished waves from a stormy hurricane, utterly unexpected, yet extremely rageful, and he silently wept, now chained to his own conscience, the ache of remembering stamped on his vital organ, adrenaline drowning him down, towards the ocean floor, his hand outstretched towards the surface, the stars’ illuminating spirits extinguished.

The convenient store, vandalized, abandoned, cans of acidic, salty soup and soggy tuna scattering the dirtied, stained floor, rows of empty shelves welcoming anyone courageous enough to visit the lieu.

The drained, lifeless corpse of the cashier near the ramyeon corner, a mass of flies tearing her flesh apart as if she were a sour gummy candy, her eyes rolled back, munched on by worms, her neck decorated with two tiny, infamous, instantaneously recognizable holes, the tattoo leaking streams of blood, her palms uplifted, as if waiting for Heaven’s embrace.

The faint drizzle, the glowing, beaming snowflakes, the splatters of body fluid under the reigning black sun, the apartment decorated with bright rouge, his parents and his hyung nonresponding, their limbs crushed, their bodies as pale as the moon, robbed of their riches, the puncture wounds on their jugulars a reminder of the newly discovered menace, the planks of wood creaking under his unsteady balance, his tears creating a trail after his running form, the bulbs of saline water erased by the carpet of whiteness.

 _Deploy your wings and fly high, Jisung-ah_. _Don’t let them capture you_.

Too much. It was too much. The overdose of hopelessness infiltrated his paralyzed mind.

The coup d’état, the Change, the race towards warmth, the suffering, the escape, the internal tempests, the denial, the hunger for nutrients and survival, the thirst for safety and comfort.

The blood-frenzied newborn. Wounds that put him under hazy, magical, paradisiac influences, moldy tapestries and broken bricked walls under a glowing, red star and a veil of snowflakes.

Yagsok.

The Key. The devastation of reality, the pain contaminating each one of his nerves, parasites and other forces taking over his failing system. 

The galaxy of fallen crystal balls, of periwinkle, of indigo.

_Fly and fight. Escape and survive, dongsaeng._

Jisung subtly gasped, awakened from his internal torment, deadly whispers wrapping themselves around his weakened form, strangling him. He analysed the environs of his whereabouts, noting yet again the traces of incense and budding pink petals which flowed through the room.

Right in front of him were three distinct, wall-length paper paintings, the diverse and unique representations of bouquets of flowers printed on royal purples serving as decorations and efficiently giving the place character under some candles’ flames, invisible arms embracing Jisung, circling his waist, promising protection and shelter for what seemed and felt like days. Goosebumps ran free on his body, fear settling in, poison invading his organs. Canary yellows blended with lily whites and peacock blues, and Jisung remained frozen in time, mesmerized, yet impossibly uneasy and uncomfortable.

 _Was-Was I… kidnapped_? _What the actual heck_ did _happen_?

He frantically looked on his left and felt his heart drop at the sight which welcomed him, the planet rendered immobile, the oxygen particles trapped in his alveoli, his treasure frozen, ice cubes floating in his bloodstream. The wind picked up, as if summoned by his discovery, and the chimes harmonized themselves to its song, bells softly ringing through the suffocating silence of unknowingness and solitude.

Elegant curtains made of what seemed to be expensive fabrics were framing sliding doors which had been sculpted with strong paper and robust wood, the moonlight piercing through the colorless material with force, Jisung bathing in its beacon, awestruck, immobile, feeling handcuffed, stuck.

Gates. An exit. Freedom.

_Escape._

Hope, heavily tainted by fright, surged up. The bougies seemed to reflect the chaotic state of his mind, their sparks of fire losing some of their animosity to the wind’s chant.

As if he now knew about the existence of thousands of prophecies and locked away, preserved-for-centuries secrets, Jisung hastily, impatiently got rid of the blankets, the heavy, colorful massive pieces of cotton inert on the old, woodened floor, and he sprang up, sitting up on the plush floor mat before wincing out of the blue, sweat beading up on his forehead, pain erupting on his right forearm, electricity coursing at full speed. Carmine beads surged up from underneath, ready for the defensive missions, prepared for war. Baffled, he eyed the member in question and gulped, the wire which was connected to the IV fluid bag plunged under his skin, the area blued and slightly bruised, blood morphing the work of art into a maze of violets.

 _Wait_ — _IV solution_ …?

He halted, dread draping itself on his shadow, ribbons of insecurities snaking their way around his frame. He lifted his pale, bony fingers and plastered them on his neck, paralyzed.

But nothing. No bulge, no marks, no infection, no massacre.

He bent his body forward, the traces pain had previously left on his barely coping machine having vanished, the dolour nowhere to find, except against the needle which was still connected to his forearm. He greatly inhaled, oxygen flourishing in his respiratory system without his ribs crashing under its weight, the bones repaired, powerful, fixed, as if brand new, the crown they composed seating high, proud. Jisung bit his inferior lip, apprehension and uneasiness choking him, and he lifted his left leg, only now remarking the bandages wrapped around it. No fire, no thorns, no poison. The phoenix was resting, for now, tail swirling around his madly beating heart, its ashes swimming through tidal waves of rubies.

Truth dawned on him, encapsulating him in a trance of disbelief, and translucent beads flowered on the sea of eyelashes which decorated his eyelids, rivulets painfully, slowly descending his osseous cheeks, sobs and wails on the tip of his tongue.

 _Vampires_. _They’re here. They can hear. They can see. They speak_. _It’s them. I’m the product of their healing ability. I’m now one of their experiments_.

He gagged, the urge to vomit and to scratch and rip his skin open omnipresent.

He was not in Yagsok no more. He was in a foreign house, a hanok, inhabited by anonymous vampires, who had offered him some dewdrops of their precious, healing, invincible, _dangerous_ product forged by the hands of Gods.

 _Am I_ … _part of a Sang camp now_ …? _Was I—_

Tears still smeared across his visage, nose runny, half-moons quivering, teeth chattering, vision wavering, heart summersaulting, he observed the pole on his right with increasing restlessness, the unknown substance still getting injected to his organism, Jisung’s veins appreciating the delight of glucose and absorbing every drop they could.

Something strange, distant, glinted and caught Jisung’s attention, the blazes licking the wax and revealing new information.

There, just beside the liquified food he was restrained and shackled to, stood a small coffee table, a fuming glass teapot and a few porcelain cups on its surface, petals on clear, warm water, like water lilies. His silver gun, with its long, shining barrel was resting against a circular plate of warm cookies and dry biscuits, beaming through the pit of drowning darkness. _Toxic_. _Avoid_. His two swords were peacefully laying on the wood planks, just under the piece of furniture, their handles previously cleaned of any blood stains, the weapons longing for him, _demanding_ for his presence.

Jisung’s entire body convulsed overpoweringly, nonstop, and, deep down, burning fury awoke in his insides, ready to lash out at any given moment, melancholy spreading through his arteries and conquering his decision-making skills.

He gritted his teeth so hard, he grew afraid of the dolor’s venom, yet again, his nails forming white crescents in the hollow of his hands.

 _I need to get the_ fuck _out of this damned place_.

He desperately plucked out the wire and hissed, his skin stinging and tingling, red buds flowing, creating a map of tiny blood courses on his arm, a new constellation of red on the white sheets. His feet touched the freezing floor and adrenaline propelled him towards his goal, his destination, his _key_ , Jisung not even caring about his appearance or about his unrecognizable and unfamiliar set of clothes, his brain yelling at him, his instincts _dragging_ him _away_ , _pulling_ him forward, utterly frantic, powered by _survival_.

 _Quick_ , _quick_ , quick—

Unbothered by the noises he produced, his legs buckling under his weight, trembling and shaking because of the fresh, foreign, golden vigor, his heart beating out of his chest, wings entirely stretched apart, the perception of liberty on his taste buds, he reached his objective, falling to his knees unceremoniously, grasping on the armaments with dear life, his fingers moving accordingly, with memory, and handling the objects of destruction with precision and professionalism.

 _Ah_ , _shit_ … _They confiscated my holsters_ …, he fussed internally, agitated, quivers animating his entire being, alarm rings sounding lovingly loud in every corner of his brain, like tantalizing chimes, whispering in his buzzing ears.

Still, the two, thin, long blades secured in his left hand, his pistol glued to his right one, a canvas of scarlet on his arm, Jisung got up in one movement, descending, spiralling towards Hell, his weightless shirt made of silk swaying to the wind’s rhythms, manic fright alimenting his entire being. The moon shone brighter, creating a path of bright radiance and, puzzled, he chased after its brilliance, pursuing its sparkling path, frigid, limp evaporated, pain unknown, unheard of, extinct, no questions clouding his brain, the only incessant command present in his bloodstream being ‘ _flee_.’ 

Not a single trace of regret present in his gestures, he slid both doors apart, separating them in opposite directions, a gust of wind and glacial snowflakes aggressively greeting him, charging at him with full force and speed, inevitable, reckless, and he squinted his eyes, a scream of fright caged by chains of control in between his vocal cords. As if summoned, the storm automatically calmed down, serene, hurtful cold seeping into the room and paralyzing Jisung, sharp, piercing, cutting, and he bit down on his inferior lip, lost, disappointed.

The bars of his prison cell now bent, demolished, he eyed the scenery which unfolded itself in front of him and sighed shakily, his breath watery, turning into translucent puffs of air, aiming towards the marine-hued, star-freckled sky, the moon a princess in her kingdom.

In the middle of the garden stood a tree, dead, its branches crunching and creaking while persistently waltzing to the rhythm of the soft breeze, its roots above ground, no leaf reverencing to its prowess. A few rocks and flowers lined the pavement and decorations, bushes around fountains, shrubs surrounding a pond. The fence presented itself, tall, forged in hard constituents.

He stepped, once, toes coming into contact with fluffy ice crystals, and he mutely shrieked, the taste of liberty and freedom on the tip of his tongue, carmine on angel wings, deliverance bubbling up in his arteries, his vital organ furiously pumping newfound energy, dictating him to _go on_ , _traverse the yard_ , _jump over the railings_ , run.

 _Run_!

Sparkling beads came to life on his eyelashes, and he suppressed a victorious squeal, his pace accelerating, his ankles and forearms blue, the drying blood near his vein now indigo.

Another step, closer, _closer_ —

“As much as I’d love to show you around, sadly, the garden is off limits for tonight,” a confident, snarky masculine voice boomed behind his hunched shoulders, ribbons tying themselves securely around his slender neck, prohibiting of further actions, scars blooming.

The Phoenix inhaled, taken by surprise, caught red-handed.

Thunderous, utter terror swallowed him whole, desiring more, crushing his hopes, his wishes as dead as winter leaves, and he choked back a fit of ugly, pathetic cries, overcome by a hurricane of feelings, all the more confusing and suffocating.

Jisung felt voided, empty, miserable. All at once, their claws on his throat, webs of fear imprisoning his limbs. He stood, stiff, on his guards, the carpet incredibly cold, his weapons bearing a meaningful, heavy weight, ruthless, his fingers numb, his blood blackening.

 _He_ ’ _s just like any other vampire_ , _no biggie_ , _idiot_. _They fear silver, newborns or not_. _Transform him into a putty of jewels, organize a joyful bonfire and march on_ , _head high_.

 _He might not be the only one, though_ , he came to the realization, frightened, and he gulped, resigned.

His choice had been made. 

He pivoted, slow, uncertainty betraying his every movement, and he faced his opponent, his eyes hard as stone, impenetrable, impassible, more than ready to combat for his poor existence. To avenge his family. To protect his own.

Only to mechanically and instantly hiccup a surprised gasp, the ribbons around his jugular still existent, but alleviated, floating, bells echoing around.

A macabre fairy tale, ink dripping on his forearms, like a well-fed course, snow tumbling down, the sight uncanny, yet sublime, fantastical.

A _Pureté_.

The creature of the night, the _undead_ , the _immortal_ being was purely magnificent, with his shoulder-long, straight mane of ebony hair dancing to the wind’s harmonies, his pink, pulpous, wet, half-opened lips displaying pointy canines, far from shying away at any moment. His pupils were enlarged, his emerald-coloured irises stretching with evil interest. His slim, tall appearance was perfect, almost as if the man had been constructed by the hands of Gods themselves, and marbled statues of him had once decorated palaces, symbols of expertise, beauty and reign. He was not thin by famine or neglect, like Jisung, but by diet and perfection. Jisung scowled, disgusted, mortified, his grip strengthening on his pistol, his shoulders quivering unstoppably. The vampire was wearing a rather simplistic attire, elegant chest covered by a black sweater visibly made of wool, his legs camouflaged by a pair of expensive-looking pants, the material impeccably hugging his waist, his feet bare, just like the human’s.

But they were not as bruised, and nowhere near as blued by tearing-skin-open cold. 

The bird of fire hugged his heart, dependent.

“Kidnapping should be banned and illegal, too. Don’t you think, _Hwang_?” he hissed in between his chattering teeth, tremors animating his dry lips, conviction clear as water in his intonation and tonality.

The man’s left, lined, thick eyebrow shot up, pleasant astonishment water-coloured on his features, a sour smirk tugging at his half-moons. He brushed a few snowflakes off his delicate shoulders with precise, thin fingers, which could most probably squeeze Jisung’s heart to auto-destruction and could mash his bones into powder with a single, simple snap, a massacre on the tip of his nails. He crossed his arms and begun moving, unbothered, chin high, and Jisung recoiled and squeaked, before mentally swearing at himself, horror devouring him raw, his posture jerking, the cold draping itself over him, his skin mauve.

“You’ve done some research, I see. Impressive. But that tongue of yours is too sharp for my liking,” he tsked, visibly dissatisfied, a mocking, teasing, _fake_ moue enlightening his expression, and glints of green and gold menacingly shone in his eyes. “I’m disappointed. I thought you would be more… _refined_.”

Automatically, mechanically, his knives fell to the soft, white ground, Jisung’s left palm flying to his bruise, and he attempted to camouflage the wound as best as he could, even though he pertinently knew it was totally, entirely futile. The Hwang descendant’s nostrils flared, and Jisung gulped, stricken by the revelation of his weaknesses, and he felt like weeping, as if the world had dropped on his frail, bent in half back, his spine cracking with pressure, an ocean of coldness whipping at his soul. He backpedaled, each step firing pain up in his legs, scorching, hot, and he bit the inside of his cheek, persistent, persevering.

 _I will die trying_ , he promised himself for the umpteenth time.

“Determined, are we, hmm?” he inquired, laughs following suit and tinting in the dead of night, and Jisung felt his tears sting, pitiful, fingers shaking on his pistol’s handle. “I was not talking about your prized treasure, worry not. I do not consume expired food, pristine or not, as expensive as it may be,” the Pureté drawled on, yawning, revealing a forked tongue, almost uninterested, and Jisung halted in his steps for a few, tantalizing seconds, perturbed, betrayed.

He couldn’t believe it. His jaw went slack. What was his purpose at this… this hanok of some sorts, then? Why had he been stolen away, put to sleep, _drugged_ with tainted, _disgusted_ , _damned_ , _sinful_ remedies, only to finish confined in a _cage_ , too toxic to consume? He saw _red_.

“Then why the _fuck_ am I here?” he vociferated with urgence, eyes bulged out, fury taking possession of his blood, maniac, and he brandished his deadly weapon in the direction of his enemy, muzzle pointed straight on the middle of the creature’s thorax, wrist impossibly, madly trembling, his heart about to fail him. “ _Where_ am I? _Why_? Why, why, _why the Hell_ _am I not in Yagsok_?!” he bellowed, his vision swaying, and he choked on a gut-wrenching cough, powerless, helpless, the rivers on his face frozen in time.

Unfair. That was what it all was. Unfair, unjust, terrible, untrue. A sinister, nightmare-inducing dream.

 _Fuck_ the Change. _Fuck_ all vampires. _Fuck_ the world. _Fuck_ his life.

“What a delight, how feisty you are,” the vampire swooned creepily, still marching, pace languid, like a crowned King who possessed all the minutes in the universe, and Jisung’s shoulder blades hit the fence, a curse slipping from his mouth. “It _is_ useless, Jisung. You better forget about Yagsok soon. You have a role to fulfill. Succumb to it. You’re back in Seoul. Awaken. I’d advise you to zip it, if you don’t want to attract _bad_ attention.”

The warrior sobbed, robbed of his everything, freedom floating from his digits, his name disappearing behind the particles of snow, his history chapter-less, the ribbons circled around his neck twitching, tightening, and he swallowed with difficulty, suffocating.

“ _Bad_ attention? What are you, then? An angel? A savior? _Good_ attention? A winged serpent?” he rambled, counting his utterances, air on death row, “You’re a _monster_ , a _fiend_ , green eyes. Your kind _deserved_ to be hunted, it was originally _destined_ to remain in the shadows, yet _you_ and your little _fucking_ friends decided to throw a _massive_ party and invited the whole humanity for _dessert_!”

Panting, exhausted, livid, quivers swimming across his limbs, fury and rage licking at his sanity, Jisung cocked his gun firmer, finger against the trigger, wrist encased by ice. A reminiscence of the blood-frenzied newborn flashed in his head and he whined, scared. 

“Trust me, believe in my words, I am in no way as evil as those you portray, Jisung—”

“ _Stop_ uttering my _name_! You have _no right_! _You all killed my family_!” he cut the Pureté off with a piercing shout, untouched, _enough_ , _shut it_ , and his tears glued his eyes shut.

The gunshot rang through the chilly, unforgiving, dark night, whistling, and the snowflakes resumed their tranquil waltz, the planet having stopped turning on its axis.

But the voice returned, a tint of worry stitched to it, the Phoenix extinguished of its forces.

“Woah—Nice aim. Not enough, however. I demanded you keep your silence, lion cub, not your revenge. Hide, or you may perish for good,” the Hwang descendant pronounced, some of its earlier spice gone, bullet in palm, unaffected, no trace of wound decapitating his perfect, well-trained, supernatural body.

Jisung’s legs collapsed under him, and he brusquely fell to the ground, vain, turned into ice, the phoenix lifeless, resting once again.

 _Fly, Jisung_ , his hyung murmured in the hollow of his ears, incessant, like a mantra, and Jisung felt like vomiting, desperately holding onto his initial fire, _but I’m wingless_!

A warm touch grazed his cheek, and he recoiled, harmed, sickened, ferally showing his teeth in a last effort, heaving, nails digging in snow, urgence imprinted in his systems, thorns poisoning his vital organ once again, getting chained around him, like a snake, and his chin got lifted with the tip of a sharp claw, in a precise direction, and he shivered, _petrified_.

 _Fly_ , _fly_ , _escape_ , _flee_ , _run_ , dongsaeng!

Green eyes bore into his, the quarrel far from terminated, and he inhaled repeatedly, hyperventilation in his synapses, creeping in his lungs, the roses strangling him, without pity. 

His soul was in the most sublime of demons’ hands, full of offerings, his tears gifts, his blood type the rarest present, which thirsted the evillest of beings’ curiosity and famish.

“Fear not, Jisung, for tis the sole beginning of your journey, of your prophecy,” the ancient being swore, promises on his fangs, future experiences in his orbs.

 _He knows too well_ , _huh_.

“I won’t. Ever. _Trust me_ , Hwang,” he choked a warning out, delivered, unveiled, prayers behind his eyelashes.

Then, a shot of piercing, luxuriant, overbearing _lilac_ , so strong, Jisung doubled over, handcuffed, the vampire stunned, troubled.

“ _Hyunjin_!”

The newcomer’s voice encrusted itself in Jisung’s brain, travelling at the speed of light through his slowly, painfully, gradually deactivating organism, and he shuddered.

“C-Chan, wait, I—”

“He’ll die of _hypothermia_! Get _the fuck_ away from my soulmate, _our_ soulmate!”

The contact had unlocked, the lock finding its key, the promise fulfilled, the ribbons inviting, soft to the touch, red, red, ruby-hued, just like his own treasure, drop after drop.

Iced purple met warm hazelnut, and Jisung puffed, wheezing, incredulous.

“N-Neige…?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Non (...) N-Neige_ : No (...) Snow (as revealed towards the end, Neige - which means snow - is Chan's nickname)  
>  _Ne le touchez pas!_ : Do not touch him! (formal/polite form)  
>  _Vous verrez-Vous verrez bien, ha! Des Réservoirs, épargnés? Vous avez tort!_ : You will see-You will clearly see, ha! Réservoirs, safe and sound? You're mistaken! (Réservoirs is a term which designates humans who serve as blood bags. most conservative vampires call them this way to reinforce the fact that they believe they solely serve as food, and not as beings)  
>  _Vous le pairez, bande de sales Puretés!_ : You'll pay, you damned Puretés! (Puretés is a term which defines pureblood vampires. therefore, yes, Chan is a pureblood. this also reveals the fact that the enemy speaking is not a pureblood, and that he was transformed.)
> 
> yes, jisung was dreaming in that first part haha xD i wanted you all to feel as confused as he was hehe  
> i know nothing much happened in this chapter, but i kinda liked it the way it was ;;  
> anyways, thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed! tell me what you think!  
> or come scream at me [here](https://twitter.com/carottebong) ♥ ( i changed my twitter @, so the link in the previous chapter is not working anymore. i'll try to fix it!)  
> (hopefully everything will make sense soon!)  
> see you soon! :D

**Author's Note:**

> again, thanks a lot for reading! i hope you enjoyed!  
> come scream at me [here](https://twitter.com/lollikpop_) ♥  
> (AND NO I'M NOT LEAVING INFO CONCERNING THE WEIRD TERMS YOU SAW HEHEHEHEH)


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